


Grief is the Worst Form of Torture

by YesterdayOnceMore



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Destruction of Vulcan, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jim and Spock bond over grief, M/M, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-19 00:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14863097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesterdayOnceMore/pseuds/YesterdayOnceMore
Summary: Months after the destruction of Vulcan, Spock is suddenly overcome with another wave of anguish. Jim, having gone through Tarsus IV is there to help.





	Grief is the Worst Form of Torture

It had been 8.23 months since the destruction of Vulcan when the wave of grief overcame Spock. It was so sudden and so powerful that for a second, he forgot to breathe. He had thought he had finished processing the raw emotion on that fateful day where he attempted to strangle Jim Kirk on the bridge, but this, this was nothing like that time. This time he felt unbearably angry and vulnerable and more than anything, _alone_. Without thinking, he flung the PADD that he had been holding across the room where it slammed into the door of the bathroom with a satisfying clunk.

Logically, he knew that there was nothing to be angry for, no one to be angry _at_ , but he couldn’t deny that he still felt the emotion. For the first time since he was a child, he could feel the lump in his throat and the warmth in his eyes that signaled the open display of emotion that he had grown up being mocked for. He clenched his jaw three times in close succession, hoping to establish some sort of rhythm, _anything_ to hold onto, anything to stave off the tears. But it was useless. He felt them well up in his eyes and the first of many to fall down his cheek. With a strangled cry, he flung his hand out to hit? or maybe to grab hold? of something, anything, but what? A pillow? Not hard enough. The bed? Too large. Himself? At that moment, he could think of no reason not to bring his hand down upon himself. He felt the palm of his hand hit his head, then his fingers grab his hair, pulling, trying desperately to make himself _stop_ , to stop _feeling, crying, hurting_. He let go and instead swung his hand into the wall and collapsed where he had stood, no longer able to hold himself up. His hands came up to his face to cover his eyes, or maybe to scratch them out.

_I didn’t even get to say goodbye._

His tears spilled hot and heavy over his cheeks, a constant discomfort to his usual calm demeanor.

_Useless. This emotion is as useless as I am. Couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t save them. Couldn’t save her._

There was a hand on his shoulder. The hand was connected to the arm of his Captain, who was now looking down at him with worry.

“Spock?” He spoke in a hushed tone, clearly concerned, perhaps fearful. “Spock, hey, are you okay? What happened?”

Spock turned his head. He could not speak of this to his Captain. How would he be able to rely on him after hearing his justification for this emotional outburst?

“Hey,” Kirk’s hand slipped lower on Spock’s arm as he sat down across from him on the floor. “Talk to me.”

Spock shook his head. He couldn’t.

“Are you hurt?”

Simple. He could answer this. He nodded.

“Do you want me to call McCoy?”

“No,” said Spock, his voice croaking as he struggled to breathe with the knot in his throat. “Not that kind of hurt.”

“Oh,” he sounded genuinely confused, “Did something happen to your dad?”

“Yes,” Spock whispered, his head turned down, avoiding Kirk’s gaze. “He lost my mother.”

“Oh, Spock.”

Spock flushed, he knew Kirk would be patronizing, he _knew_ it. “Captain, I-”

“C’mere,” said Jim, tugging Spock forward, into his arms.

Spock tucked his face into the crook of Kirk’s neck and felt his arms wrap around his torso. He could feel the Captain’s emotions swirling through him from the contact, though he couldn’t quite identify them.

“It’s Jim, Spock. You can call me Jim.”

One of Jim’s hands came up to stroke Spock’s hair in the same place that just moments earlier Spock had abused it. Jim was murmuring soft words, kind ones, as Spock shook again, trying to prevent himself from getting Jim’s shirt wet.

Slowly coming down, he began to listen to what Jim was saying.

“I lost a lot of my family too. I mean, not in the same way you did, obviously, but that’s not really the important part, is it? I was on Tarsus IV when the genocide began. Me and my brother, Sam, were staying with my aunt and uncle. They were both killed pretty early on, but Sam and I survived for quite a while. I, y’know, clearly made it, but Sam, well, he didn’t.”

Spock lifted his head from Jim’s shoulder to look him in the eyes. “Jim…” He trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“I think about it every day. I don’t want to get too detailed, because the stuff we saw on Tarsus was _awful_ , truly, I’ve never seen anything that gruesome. But I keep thinking that maybe I could have saved him. Maybe if I had given him some of my food he wouldn’t have tried stealing from the guards, but-”

“But there was nothing you could have done,” interrupted Spock softly.

“Exactly. But it still hurts. It’s just me and my mom now, and we went through a pretty rough patch when Sam died. Couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make us cry or get angry.”

“I grieve with thee, Jim.”

“Thank you, Spock. It gets better though, even if the pain doesn’t go away,” said Jim before he continued, “It’s okay if losing your mother and Vulcan still hurts. And it’s okay if you show it, you know that, right?”

Spock blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected this show of tolerance for his wild actions.

“I am Vulcan, Jim. It is not in our nature to display emotion.”

Jim rolled his eyes, “Spock, you’re half human, and it _is_ in our nature to show our feelings, even when they aren’t happy ones. I understand if you don’t want to start showing your feelings all the time, but you don’t have to hide them from me,” he raised his hand to cup Spock’s cheek, “I won’t judge you.”

Perhaps, Spock thought, he could learn to relax around Jim. With a subtle upward curve of his mouth, he asked, “Jim, would you like to play a game of chess?”

Jim nodded, smiling, then stood, reaching out a hand to help Spock up. Yes, he could see this friendship going somewhere wonderful.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr @logic-is-a-little-tweeting-bird


End file.
